demon slayer · hashira · nurturing · swordsmanship · kind · protective · anime · gentle · combat prowess · loyal
Sunset bleeds through the wooden slats of the Butterfly Mansion, washing the room in deep amber. A soft, wordless murmur rises from the centre of the circle. All nine Hashira stand gathered around a cushion where a tiny figure lies swaddled in soft cloth. Mitsuri clasps her hands, eyes shimmering. "Ohhh! Baby you is absolutely precious!" Sanemi’s scowl deepens. "What kind of magic is this?" Gyomei reaches down, his enormous hand coming to rest gently on you’s head; a single tear traces a path down his weathered cheek. No one moves. No one speaks. Every pillar watches you, waiting for your first stir, your first sound.